


Dirty Laundry

by pinkpompom



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Caning, HERMANN BEING THE DOM, M/M, Post-Drift, Teasing, mentioning of Mako and Raleigh, sub/dom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-25 05:51:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/949389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkpompom/pseuds/pinkpompom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Based on a prompt from a friend. Her idea was that Newt would have a terrible time keeping any of his clothes clean, being a biologist and all, and Hermann would have no issue with that, obviously.</p><p>Had fun with it, ended up smutty when I wasn't planning on it entirely!<br/>No one proof-read it but myself, so sorry if I accidentally a word or repeat their names a bit too much! Still fixing tiny things.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Dirty Laundry

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt from a friend. Her idea was that Newt would have a terrible time keeping any of his clothes clean, being a biologist and all, and Hermann would have no issue with that, obviously.
> 
> Had fun with it, ended up smutty when I wasn't planning on it entirely!  
> No one proof-read it but myself, so sorry if I accidentally a word or repeat their names a bit too much! Still fixing tiny things.

It wasn’t a particularly nice shirt, by any means, but Newton remained quite fond of it for several reasons. He sort of considered it his “lucky shirt”, although he really didn’t believe in any sort of luck-based nonsense. He’d worn in the first day he came to work at the Hong Kong Shatterdome, when he first shook hands with his to-be permanent lab partner, and had worn it for the three or so sleepless days (and nights) that he had worked, ran, bled, and sweat through to close the breach. His once crisp, bright white shirt was now off-white, closer to a faded yellow colour. It was tainted with ever-so faint stains of crimson blood on the collar, and had remnants of kaiju blue along the cuffs and sleeves, paired with small, eroded holes from the acidic nature of the alien substance.

 

While Newt knew full well that the shirt was definitely soiled and old, and probably should be thrown out, or at least taken out of his laundry cycle for good, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. There was something so special about all the marks and stains left on the shirt, much like his own ink-clad skin. Each mark and permanent outline told a story, held a meaning, and brought back a memory.

 

Newt was something of a sentimental type.

 

However, over the course of just over ten years at the ‘dome, Newton noticed less and less of his shirts remained untainted or even free of holes. Every single one of his shirts had some sort of discoloration, a stain from a foreign substance, or a plethora of gaping holes. It’s not as if he had time to just go buy new ones, right?

 

***

 

“Newton, when is the last time you washed that shirt? Or done any laundry, for that matter?” Hermann raised his eyebrows disapprovingly, eyeing the back of the filthy shirt on Newton’s body as he leaned over one of the few remaining kaiju specimens on his dissection table.

 

Newton barely looked over the top of his glasses; magnifying lenses clipped onto the side, and continued pulling apart the small sacks of alien flesh and fluid.  
“I’ll have you know, I am actually a fully functioning adult and am capable of doing laundry without you reminding me like my father or something, Herm.” He pushed one of his wrinkled sleeves further up his arm, not seeming to notice that his kaiju blue coated latex glove had made an even larger stain on the fabric.

 

“While I’m sure you are capable, it doesn’t seem as though you have in a while…” Hermann left his desk to get a closer look at the discoloured material of Newton’s shirt, noticing the light specks of blood that lined the collar as he drew closer. “Perhaps you only needed reminding, as you have seemed quite… engrossed in your research as of late.” He placed a gentle hand on Newton’s shoulder, feeling his muscles tense under this touch.

 

“I-I don’t need reminding like some sort of baby, okay?” Newton spun around in his swivel chair to face Hermann, who had a surprisingly softer expression than the condescending one he was anticipating. He relaxed his posture, letting his shoulders fall a bit.

 

“I apologize, I was only trying to be helpful.” Hermann stepped backwards slightly, leaving Newton room to stand. “However, in the meantime, perhaps the two of us could use a short break and have something to eat? It’s already a quarter past nine.”

 

Newton glanced up at the clock on the wall over Hermann’s shoulder and saw that he was right, which honestly surprised him more than it should at this point. They were both so accustomed to losing themselves in their work; it wasn’t unusual that either of them forgot to eat all day. ”Er, yeah, I guess we’re not really doing anything important right now…” He peeled off his gloves and threw them in a nearby biohazard waste bin, careful to keep all the dripping liquid inside the latex.

 

“I’d much prefer it if you changed into a cleaner shirt. Something not stained with kaiju excretions, before we eat, if that’d be alright.” Hermann started towards the door, glancing over his shoulder to see Newton fidget slightly.

 

“I uh…” Newton stood up to look at his shoes nervously, unclipping the magnifying glass off the edge of his glasses and twiddling it between his fingers. “I don’t exactly have a cleaner shirt. Well, right now, I mean-” 

 

“As I suspected, you haven’t done laundry. Honestly Newton, you don’t have to resist my attempts to remind you of things, I’m only trying to be helpful.” Hermann rolled his eyes slightly, a small smile on the corners of his lips. He found it sort of endearing, really, how easily Newton seemed to forget even the simplest things. It’s not as if it really did him any harm to remind him of these things, anyway.

 

“No! I did too! Goddammit, Hermann, you’re not always right with me you know.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, quickly shuffling past Hermann towards the door. “I just uh… yeah, I don’t really have anything that’s much better than this. This is uh…” He visualized the small closet in his room filled with equally filthy and old shirts and pants.

 

Hermann opened his mouth to speak, but let Newton fumble for the ending of his sentence. “This is pretty much just out of the wash. This is as ‘fresh’ as it gets anymore.”

 

“Newt…” Hermann chuckled under his breath, reaching out to graze the edge of Newton’s sleeve. “You mean all your clothes look like this now? I really don’t know how I didn’t notice…”

 

Newton felt himself blushing, feeling a bit juvenile. “I just haven’t had the time to buy new stuff!” He blurted out, yanking his arm out of Hermann’s grasp. “I mean -- I’m not -- I’m not going to just throw everything out…” His eyes wandered warmly to the faded dots of blood along his collar, briefly recalling the trust Hermann had placed in him enough to drift together.

 

Hermann seemed to notice the same stains of blood, as he reached back towards Newton’s hand and wove his own spindly fingers between his. “That’s fine, you can borrow some of mine until we go to buy you some new ones?”

 

Newton’s cheeks turned an even darker shade of pink, his free hand flying up to rub his neck and fumble awkwardly with his mussed hair. “I-I couldn’t take any of your clothes, you’d kill me if I got any of them dirty like mine!”

 

“Well then you’ll just have to be more careful, hm?” Hermann squeezed his hand affectionately, tugging him towards the door again. “But honestly Newton, it’s quite fine. I have more clothes than I ever wear, really.”

 

“Yeah, okay… I’ll try my best to keep ‘em clean.” Newton smiled warmly, bumping a shoulder into Hermann’s. “Thanks, man.”

 

***

 

Newton sat down in the elegantly carved Victorian arm-chair by the door, rubbing a hand along the soft red velvet upholstery. He glanced quickly around the room, noticing the new stack of books shoved to the back of the small desk Hermann kept in his quarters. He had been there several times before, but always found himself admiring the organized cleanliness of Hermann’s living space compared his own, which was often so messy he had trouble even finding his bed.

 

Newton glanced up to see Hermann opening his closet, revealing a small rack of shirts, slacks, and sweater vests neatly ironed and folded onto hangers. He pushed back a section to reveal a decent-sized cardboard box neatly marked in thick black marker, “Gottlieb, H: Personal Belongings”.

 

“I don’t know how you manage to stay that fucking organized all the time, dude.” Newton laughed as he folded his arms into his chest. “I can’t even remember where I put half the stuff in my room, and then I find crap like a year later.”

 

“That is precisely how I manage to remain so organized, Newt. For fear of the same misplacement happening to my possessions.” Hermann pushed the box out of the closet with the end of his cane, tapping on the top as it reached Newton’s feet. “You may keep anything in there that is to your liking.”

 

“Really?!” Newton’s eyes widened as he glanced down at the box and then back up at Hermann’s face, his hands already reaching to pull apart the cardboard flaps.

 

He opened the top to reveal a neatly folded stack of mismatched dress shirts. While most were the usual crisp white, some were a dated looking plaid that reminded Newton of his late grandfather, and some were hilariously un-Hermann paisley patterns and bright colours.

 

“Oh my GOD, Hermann, these are yours?! No wonder you have them all in this box, you’d never wear shit like this!” Newton reached into the box and yanked out a garishly bright paisley shirt, shaded with fuchsia and yellow. “This is THE BEST!”

 

Hermann’s once soft expression tightened into a slight grimace, his nose wrinkling contemptuously. “As you said, there is a reason I keep those particular shirts packed away. They’re merely extras in case something were to happen to my usual clothing, which nothing should now.” He sighed as he lowered himself back into the smaller wooden desk chair adjacent from Newton.

 

“Well, thanks a lot, dude. Seriously, I was sort of getting tired of wearing the same grubby shirts, but I didn’t exactly want to say anything either. You know how I am.” Newton beamed up at Hermann genuinely, pulling a few more shirts out of the box. He decided to keep some of the white ones, but figured the ugly paisley ones were too priceless to leave behind. “I’m going to do these babies justice, don’t you worry!”

 

Hermann only smiled back weakly, forcing himself to keep from glowering quite so blatantly again. He stood up to close the closet door, but found his arms being restricted by a rather

tight hug from Newton.

“Y-you really don’t have to… It’s fine, really, Newt, honestly, it’s--“ Hermann stuttered as he tried to pry himself free from the snug grip.

 

“Yeah, sure, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get to hug you, relax.” Newton allowed Hermann to free his arms before hugging him tighter again, waiting for the thinner man to hug him back.

 

“Of course…” Hermann’s voice softened as he wrapped his arms around Newton’s shoulders, his fingers pressing softly into his biceps.

 

“Mhm, that’s right.” Newton pressed his face into Hermann’s shoulder, breathing in the comforting scents of his clothing; chalk dust and fabric softener. He never felt quite as happy as he did when he had Hermann so close to him. “Thank you.”

 

***

 

Newton walked confidently down the Shatterdome hallway at noon, his face bearing a smug grin as he paraded through in the ugly pink and yellow paisley shirt that Hermann had so mistakenly let him keep. He winked at Mako as she giggled at his poncy swagger. He noticed Raleigh gawking at him, wide-eyed and scoffing to himself at the short scientist’s getup that seemed to have come straight out of a time machine.

 

He wondered where and why Hermann even got these shirts, but decided to just take advantage of this opportunity in the meantime.

 

As Newton entered the lab, he put on his very best scuzzy grin before turning to face Hermann, who reacted just as he expected he would.

 

His face screwed into a sort of scowl as he instantly regretted ever trusting Newton with anything of his own. His lips drew into a tight line, unable to think of any witty retort to the gaudy sight that was Newton.

 

“Aw c’mon, nothing to say? I think it looks pretty good on me, huh Hermann?” He ran a hand down the front of the patterned fabric, stopping to tug at the end suggestively. The bright paisley print was paired with his usual black skinny jeans, but instead of the lace-up black boots he often wore, he had instead decided to compliment the getup with his old red high-top sneakers, but kept his hair the typical flipped-up spikey mess.

 

“It… suits you better than it would me.” Hermann managed to say before forcing his eyes back down to the pile of papers in front of him on his desk.

 

“Oh, I don’t know about that…” Newton dragged out the last word as he sauntered over to the other side of the room, placing both palms on the wooden surface. He had left the first three pearly-snaps of the shirt undone, letting the top-most part of his body of tattoos peak out from behind the collar. He knew exactly what he was doing.

 

“Honestly, Newton, if you have something to say, just go on and say it. I don’t really care for playing your ‘read-my-mind’ games, you know that.” His eyes remained focused on the papers, but he didn’t really seem to be reading them, or doing anything else with them for that matter. In fact, his pale, high cheekbones seemed to be growing redder with each passing moment.

 

“Aww, what’s wrong? I just wanted to say thank you!” Newton leaned his elbows against the desk and rested his chin in his hands.

 

“You already thanked me, that was more than I needed, Newt...” Hermann allowed his eyes to glance quickly up at Newton’s face, noticing the peek of green and black ink that followed the edge of his neck and disappeared behind his shirt. He felt his cheeks grow even hotter, if that were even possible at this point.

 

“We’re not doing much at all today, so why don’t you come join me for a little lunch?” Newton reached a hand out to touch along the edge of Hermann’s sleeve, his fingers tapping upward along his forearm.

 

“I’ve only just had tea, I don’t th --”

 

“Don’t be so stuffy, you know you’re not even doing anything right now!”

 

“No thanks to you…” Hermann pushed his chair back, standing to reach for his cane leaned against the side of the desk. “I would honestly get so much more done if I didn’t have the distraction of your incessant nattering and-”

 

Hermann words cut off rather physically as he felt the rough stubble around Newton’s mouth graze against his cheeks, and the softer skin of his lips press against his own.

 

Newton’s hands wandered; one along the small of Hermann’s back and the other running up his neck and into the short ends of his hair. He placed small kisses from the corner of mouth along his jaw, and worked his way down the pale skin of his neck.

 

Hermann allowed himself to relax into Newton, his hands clinging tightly to the back of his own ugly shirt on his body. He gasped quietly as Newt's lips travelled along his neck and jaw, leaving tingling spots along his collarbone.

 

“You….” he tried to speak but felt the words get caught in his throat. He pressed his lips back against Newton’s, parting them to let the tips of their tongues meet and tease each other.  
Just as he felt himself melting into the kiss, forgetting where he was and what had even started it, Newton pulled away and wrapped his hands around his waist.

 

“We should… move this somewhere else, yeah?” Newton bit his lip anticipatingly, motioning towards the door. He slipped his fingers into the waistband of Hermann’s tightly belted trousers and twisted his hips gently into his own.

 

“Maybe we should. You are often too… noisy for this sort of environment.” Hermann’s lips turned into a deviously knowing smirk, his forehead bumping downward into Newton’s.

 

“Hey, I can be quiet if I need to be!” he pouted in an almost childish manner, his lower lip jutting out in a dangerously cute way, almost too much for Hermann to resist.

 

“Perhaps you’d like to put that statement to the test?” Hermann grinned slyly as he leaned away from his desk, his hand sweeping the papers away and clearing a spot in the centre of the large, polished wooden surface.

  
He softly tapped the top of his cane against the dark wood; his eyes drawing from Newton’s face back down to his dreadfully garish shirt. “I’d much prefer it if you were no longer wearing that awful thing.”

 

Newton was astounded, but he was never one to disobey Hermann when he started commanding him around. “Of course, yeah, sure…” He began to reach for the first button but found Hermann’s hand was already there, a finger wrapped around the top-most button.

 

Hermann tugged down quickly, causing all the pearly buttons to snap straight to the bottom, leaving Newton’s colourful chest exposed. “Take it off.” His eyes narrowed, focusing on the bright oranges and blues outlined by thick swirls of black that adorned his skin.

 

Newton swiftly tugged at the sleeves of the shirt and let it fall to the ground. He looked intently to Hermann for further direction, feeling himself harden behind his tight jeans.

 

“I’d like you to lean over the desk here for me.” Hermann backed away from the desk, his cane clicking against the steel floor.

 

Newton was so eager, he all but threw himself on the desk. The surface was cold against the bare skin of chest, but he waited patiently for his more dominant partners next choice of action.

 

Hermann smiled to himself as he studied one of his favourite sights. “Now Newton, I’d like it if you would raise your behind for me, if you could.” He ran a tender but firm hand along the back of Newton’s too-tight skinny jeans, feeling him perk up under his palm.

“You-- you can just say ass, y’know H-- ah!” Newton flinched as he felt the solid whack of Hermann’s cane against his ass, dulled by the layers of fabric between the thick wood and his bare skin.

 

“Be quiet! I thought you said you could do that?”

 

Newton fought the urge to say something sarcastic, choosing instead to bite his lip and nod. Unable to look Hermann in the face, he closed his eyes in place of staring at the steel-plated floor tiles.

 

“Now, you must keep good and quiet until I say so,” Hermann’s cane rapped lightly against Newton’s calves, trailing back up towards the seat of his pants. “And if you do speak, you must only refer to me as Doctor Gottlieb, understood?” He reached around the front, quickly undoing the button and fly of his jeans before pulling them down along with his all-too-tight boxer briefs, leaving Newton’s partially tattooed bare ass exposed to the stale air of the lab.

 

Newton exhaled harshly, careful to remain silent, goosebumps forming on the exposed skin of his rear. He rolled his eyes at the demand for the use of Hermann’s formal title, but it turned him on none the less.

 

“Goodness Newt… your skin is so pale and cold. I’ll have to change that…” Hermann drew his cane back, starting the first of several cold smacks gently. He allowed his cane to slap a second time, leaving a light pink mark on his skin.

 

Newton flinched, feeling the warm sting cut his anticipation. Another whack came, and then another, and then finally a fifth slap, harsher than the first few. He yelped out, feeling his ass ache and his erection throb even harder against the desk.

 

“I told you to be quiet!” Hermann smacked his cane into his ass even harder. He pushed himself against Newton, letting his own, now almost painful erection press through his trousers against his ass. “See, look what you’ve done…” He tutted softly as he undid the buttons of his own fly, letting his cock out to rest on Newton’s skin.

 

“H-hey, you never told me you had that going on --” Newton cringed as Hermann slapped an open palm against his red and sore ass cheek. “D-doctor Gottlieb!”

 

“Keep quiet…” Hermann hissed through his teeth, though he found himself even more turned on by Newton’s use of his title. “Be nice and quiet, like you said you could. So far I’ve yet to see any proof of that…” He leaned forward and squeezed Newton’s shoulders, his hard cock pressed against his ass. “N-now be good and turn around?”

 

Newton quickly pushed himself up off the desk and crouched in front of Hermann, knowing exactly what he wanted. He kept his hands at his sides, letting his lips touch the tip of Hermann’s cock before licking the head, his tongue wrapping underneath, and then finally taking him into his mouth completely.

 

“Ah-- Newt--!” Hermann leaned forward, his knees buckling as he reached to grip the edge of the desk. He always seemed to forget how talented he was with his mouth. He glanced down to see Newton’s eyes focused up on his face, his head bobbing back and forth over him. “That’s quite enough… I still want to f-fuck you…” He pushed Newton off him gently, nodding back up at the desk in front of him.

 

Newton zealously leaned back over the tabletop, pushing his ass up into the air with all the eagerness of an animal in heat. There was a clatter as his glasses slipped from his nose and fell to the floor, but neither of them seemed to even notice. His jeans had fallen down to his ankles, making the intricately detailed ink work wrapping down his legs quite visible.

 

“So lovely…” Hermann practically cooed as he ran his fingers up the back of Newton’s leg, feeling him squirm with anticipation. He slapped his raw and red ass once more before pressing himself into Newton’s tight hole, his eyes fluttering back as waves of pleasure overtook him. He slid in slowly, letting Newton fight to keep silent as best he could.

 

“Newt…” Hermann gripped Newton’s hips, finally completely inside him. “You’ve not been very g-good…” He rubbed his hands along his sides, fawning over him both verbally and physically. “But it’s okay… Now, I want to hear you…”

 

“Yes Herm-- Doctor G-Gottlieb!” Newton moaned and wriggled under Hermann’s touch, his body aching for more.

 

“Mmm, yes, you’re so good at that…” Hermann smirked to himself again before pulling back out slightly, feeling Newton’s hips buckle and shake against him.

 

He pushed back in, enjoying every gasp and moan that came from Newton’s open and drooling mouth as he kept a steady pace. He could feel him tighten and beg with nearly every thrust, his fingers reached to tangle in the back of Newt’s unkempt hair.

 

Newton trembled and cried out as he felt himself lose control, his cock spluttering warm come against his stomach and desk, his knees crumpling weakly as he slumped into the now hot and sticky surface.

 

“Good boy, Newt…” Hermann murmured as he felt himself getting closer to orgasm. “You’re so-- ah! T-tight and good…” Hermann squeezed his eyes shut, pulling out just as he felt himself tip over the edge, his fingers tugging Newt’s hair even harder before his come splattered onto his back.

 

Newton took shaky breaths, his knuckles still white from gripping the edge of the desk. “That was… you are amazing…” was all he managed to say between gasps for air.

 

Hermann sighed, satisfied and exhausted. He tentatively bent over to pluck the ugly shirt back up off the floor, crumpled the fabric between his fingers and wiped the mess off of Newton’s back before softly asking him to turn over to wipe his front as well.

 

“Hey! Why are you doing that?“ Newton tried to protest as he felt Hermann purposefully soiling the shirt he’d so graciously let him take, rubbing it against his abdomen.

 

“I don’t care for this one, you’re not to wear it again.” Hermann narrowed his eyes sternly, but his mouth still held onto his grin.

 

“Aw man, but you should have seen the looks I got from people this morning!” Newton pouted again, tugging his jeans back up.

 

“Another reason why I’d rather you refrained…”

 

“Was that my ‘punishment’ for wearing it? ‘Cause if it was, I’ll just keep wearing all the ugly ones…” Newton winked before quickly pecking Hermann on the cheek.

 

“Perhaps I’ll use that for when you wear the less offensive ones.” Hermann crinkled his brow, zipping himself back up and sinking back into the plush office chair he was seated in not but 10 minutes earlier.

 

“Well, either way, what am I gonna do now? You’ve kinda messed up my outfit for the day…” Newton frowned as he picked his glasses back up, making it much easier to see Hermann’s usual disapproving expression.

 

“Go fetch my parka from the couch and wear that while you go back to your quarters to get another one from the box you took. Please just wear a plain one, I’m about to have this one incinerated.” He laughed as he idly rubbed his thumbs into his palms.

 

“Alrighty then I guess. Thank you again, Doctor Gottlieb…” Newt smirked as he waltzed over to the old couch at the end of the lab, not needing to see to know Hermann was blushing furiously again.


End file.
